A new Faust, this
time consisting of only Zappi Diermaier and Jean-Hervé Péron, no guests – just
them, indeed. I mean no disrespect to the other original band members, but I’d
say Just Us is
almost a back-to-roots album. Hazy songs, kitchen-sink percussion, a fine blend
of heavy moods and light discourse, a fusion of simple repetitions and way-out
sonic explorations. With disjointed guitar solos, wild creativity, and mastery.
A keeper. [Below: A snippet of “Sur le ventre.”]

The first of two
new albums to be released this fall by Magma, Rïah Sahïltaahk consists in a revamped, revised and
rerecorded version of “Rïah Sahïltaahk”, the classic piece from Magma’s second
LP 1001 Degrees Centigrade (1971).
The new version sounds less frantic, more soulful, and gives a central role to
Benoit Alziary’s vibraphone. The writing has also been tidied up – the original
is a hodge-podge of hastily assembled ideas, as if Vander had wanted to throw a
triptych’s worth of material into a single 20-minute piece. And where the
original concludes on a delicate piano tune that’s barely exposed, and which
would be fully developed elsewhere, on a little-known 45rpm, under the title
“Klaus Kombalad”, here that song is partially integrated, for one verse with
piano and vocals. Honestly, Vander should have gone all the way and graft a
complete full-band rendition of “Klaus Kombalad” at the end of “Rïah
Sahïltaahk” – that theme deserves more love. So, a strong version, different
enough to warrant its stand-alone release. But be warned: this album is only 24
minutes long.

Two successive
ensembles featuring the same musicians. We are in Columbia, in the late ‘90s
and early ‘00s. Recording conditions are haphazard, but there’s a serious party
going on. With the Ensamble Polifónico Vallenato, the accordion is at the
centre of the sound, and the writing borrows from regional traditional music
clichés. It’s full of derision, off-the-wall, a form of sazy post-folk music.
With the other ensemble, flutes replace the accordion, and the party turns into
shamanic fury – the party is the ultimate outlet – and we teeter on the edge of
collapse. Fun, different, “outsider”-like, but neither revelatory nor
essential.

Nomads is
Tumido’s seventh album, but I didn’t know this band prior. I knew some of its
members though: drummer Bernhard Breuer plays in Métalycée, and trumpeter Gigi
Gratt is in Ni; the third member is keyboardist Mario Stadler. Instrumental
rock. Dirty grooves, a blend of krautrock and Konono No. 1. Too dirty at times,
the production hindering the music in places. Nice, not great. Released on LP
only.

Hmm... Goat’s
debut was a smash. The live record that followed highlighted the band’s
shortfalls (its singers, mainly). And I find Commune, their second studio opus, the follow-up to
the great World Music, disappointing,
because it fails to capitalize on the debut’s assets or to improve on their
sound and delivery. The first half of the album is too quiet – the band is
trying to integrate a Sahara element to their sound, but they do so at the cost
of part of their drive. The second half comes back to the spirit of the debut,
but now it sticks too close to it. Tracks like “Goatslaves” and “Gathering of
Ancient Tribes”, in particular, show no evolution in the band’s songwriting. So
I’m confused. It’s not a bad record, but the effect of surprise is gone, and to
me Commune sounds like a watered-down
copy of World Music.